


Unrelated

by Punktchen



Series: 26 letters of quodo angst [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punktchen/pseuds/Punktchen
Summary: Childhood woes.Written for K - Kids.
Series: 26 letters of quodo angst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800496
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Unrelated

When his brother Rom was born, their father Keldar knelt before Quark, took his hand, looked the three-year-old in the eye and told him very seriously that he’s going to be his younger brother. “And you’re going to be an older brother”, he told him. “That means you younger brother is going to be your responsibility, too. You’ll have to care for him, help him, teach him how to be a good, profitable businessman. Be a good investment for your father.”

Quark took his role very seriously. Good investments are the key to wealth, after all. But as the years went by he couldn’t help but feel he’d failed at his job. Rom was very, very far from being a good businessman. He couldn’t recognize a sure bet if it danced on the tip of his nose. He’d come crying and screaming to their mother after every little loss. And even now that he was in the third grade and Quark was in the 6th, he’d wait the two hour time between the end of his classes and Quark’s so that Quark would walk him home, despite the fact most kids his age could walk home alone.

And Quark would have to do it. Never mind what he wanted to do with his afternoon. Their strange, insolent mother, who was most likely the source of Rom’s shameful behavior, would be very cross with Quark if anything were to happen to Rom. Even if it wasn’t his fault at all. She was cross with him when a 4th grade bully named Groog convinced Rom to spend all the latinum he got for his birthday on a rare pet emerald beetle that turned out to be a shoddily-pained, common, black beetle.

“And where were you while this happened?” their Mother asked, slightly raising her voice over Rom’s sobs.

“I don’t know, minding my own business,” Quark said sullenly.

“Your brother’s business is you own business, Quark,” she said. “At school, it’s your job to look after him.”

Rom wasn’t a baby, but he was certainly treated like one. Quark wishes he could be treated as well, for once. Mother didn’t even chew his food for him anymore.

As it happened, today, Quark’s friends planned to head down to the town’s market after school to watch the weekly public bidding. Only adults could participate, of course, but lobelings could watch the proceeding and bet who would win what, and at what price. Quark very much wanted to go. It was a decent opportunity to expand his own nascent fortune of birthday latinum and chore payment.

But, of course, his friends wouldn’t want him to come if it meant being tailed by a whiny, small-lobed 8 year old.

And so, at the end of the day, he evaded Rom’s not-so-watchful eye, and climbed to school’s fence to meet his friends on the other side. And, well, if Rom would give up and go home on his own for once, it’d only do him good, Quark figured.

\--

“Pa, Ta, Ka, Ba…”

“Incredible!” Dr. Vidin exclaimed. “It’d only had voice chords for, what, a week?”

“Ten days,” corrected Dr. Mora. “But it can repeat any consonants it hears. It really is a remarkable achievement. I’ve never seen any humanoid child develop this quickly.”

Dr. Vidin and Dr. Mora were smiling, and so, Odo’ital- Unknown Sample- smiled too. He’d learned that imitating their smiles put them at ease, and when they- the Bajorans- were put at ease, they were far more likely to spend time with him and treat him nicely. If he puts them enough at ease, he hopes they’d let him go out. He’d only been out twice, but he’d much preferred it to the laboratory. Outside there were thousands of interesting things in different textures and colors to explore. Inside, everything always stayed the same.

“How about we move to Fricative consonants next?” Dr. Vidin asked.

“I’m telling you, it can do them. We need to start teaching it language. Think of how much more we could know if it could actually speak with us?”

Behind them, a soft, sharp cough was heard, silencing the scientists instantly. The Cardassian Supervisor, Dr. Magal, raised one brow as he looked at Mora, and all the ease drained from the doctors’ features.

Odo’ital stopped smiling too.

“No. We need to test it’s durability first,” Mora said.

“Of course,” Vidin said.

Odo’ital could sense the mood shifting against his favor. It always did when the Cardassian made a noise. He did not like her. However, it might be salvageable.

“No,” he said, loud and clear.

The two doctors paused. They looked at him, back at each other, and back at him.

“No?” repeated Mora.

“Was he mimicking you?” Vidin asked. “Or was he trying to speak?”

“I don’t know!” Mora said. He made toward Odo’ital, hand reaching out.

Odo’ital drew back. “No,” he said, not wanting to be taken elsewhere.

“He’s talking!” Mora said. “By the Prophets, he’s actually talking!”

“No,” Odo repeated, firmly, as it seemed he was getting through to them. He pointed at a window. “Ah. Oot. Out. No.”

“Does he want us to go out?” Vidin asked. “We can’t do that, Odo’ital.”

“No,” Odo’ital repeated. “Out.”

Dr. Magal coughed again.

“We will have to examine this later,” Mora said hurriedly. “Make a note of it in our research, Vidin, and prepare the sterile chamber."

“No,” Odo insisted. “No, Out!”

“And get the shocker,” Mora said. “I think we’re going to need it.”

“No!” Odo insisted again. “No!”

He hated the shocker.

\--

Fafa found Quark when he was halfway home, and he dragged him the rest of the way back by the tip of his lobe, yelling and frothing all the while.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were?” he asked. “Quark, for gold’s sake, I thought you had more brain in that head of yours than this! Rom is hysterical. He thought you were kidnapped!”

As if Quark would yield enough profit to be kidnapped by anyone.

The bidding wasn’t done, but Quark returned home anyway. Not so much out of guilt or even because his latinum ran out. Rather, the entire event soured on him when his friends turned the conversation to his home life. Mocking his mother, whom they say everyone knew she was talking to strange men. One of them swore, falsely of course, that he’d seen her wear a pair of socks. Quark nearly punched him for it.

A good businessman would find a way to turn the conversation and shake his opponent’s confidence. Quark was so angry he couldn’t think of anything. He’s not a very good businessman.

His mother, at home, was livid. Rom was, unsurprisingly, crying his eyes out. He got sent to his room with a bowl of unchewed grubs for dinner, and told he’d be going only to school and back for the next three months.

The last thing he saw before he shut the door was his mother hugging and shushing Rom.

At that moment, Quark hated them both.

\--

Odo’ital hated the sterile room. He was expected to shift to whatever was put before him, otherwise he’d be shocked. Sometimes they’d shock him if he shifted too slowly. Sometimes they’d shock him if he shifted poorly. He wasn’t sure why that’d only happen sometimes, but it scared him.

Being shocked hurt.

When his energy drained they’d shock him a few more times, just to make sure he couldn’t shift anymore, and only when they were convinced he could do nothing, they’d let him out of the sterile room. Those shocks hurt the most, because he couldn’t get away from them.

Then they’d collect him into a vessel and leave him on a shelf for hours on end. Alone and tired in a dark, empty room.

Odo’ital didn’t like being there. He didn’t like being alone.

\--

Quark was crying bitter, silent tears into his bowl of squirming grubs. He wished he could be anywhere in the world but where he was right now.

Thousands of lightyears away, on the planet Bajor, if Odo’ital could’ve heard the sentiment, he’d have agreed wholeheartedly.


End file.
